The Boondock Saints:  A Russian's Revenge
by backbreakingmetal
Summary: The boys' dad has been kidnapped and they are being hunted by the Russian mob in retaliation of the first hit they ever did.  Can they survive to save their dad and continue on their mission from God?


The night air was cold and harsh. The New York streets were wet with melted snow, the temperature just high enough to keep it from freezing, but low enough to keep people bundled tightly in thick coats. The night was quiet, a few cars driving along the streets. A bell suddenly echoed out in the night, ringing out through the steeple of the large church. Within the church, mass had just finished, a small crowd of churchgoers, standing to their feet and walking out of the church. Two men remained as the people left, bundled up as they entered the cold night air. The two men kneeled within the church, their heads bowed deeply in prayer.

The bell tolled for the final time, the echo of its ring slowly fading out delving the church once again into silence. Standing as one, the two men rose to their feet, kissing the crosses that hung from their necks and placing them under their shirts before turning and walking down the center aisle of the church, pushing open the doors and walking out into the night. Moving to an old car sitting in a parking space, the two men stood at the trunk of it. Popping the trunk, the two men both pulled out a pair of handguns, tightening silencers on the barrels, and then sliding them into shoulder holsters under their jackets. Moving to the front of the car, the two men climbed in, the car's engine rumbling to a start before they pulled off into the night.

Conner and Murphy McManus sat in the car, staring out over the dockyard at the bottom of the hill their car sat at.

"Are you sure he's there?"

"Smecker said his contact gave him this address."

Conner lifted a pair of binoculars, staring down at a warehouse that was off to the side from the rest of the dockyard. Four cars sat in front of it, plus a large truck and an SUV. The outside of the warehouse was suspiciously quiet, no guards or sentrys walking around.

"I don't like this, Murph."

"We have to get him out, Conner."

Conner looked over at Murphy who sat staring ahead, his finger absently rubbing his chin.

"We'll get him."

Dropping the binoculars into the backseat, Conner pulled one of his guns as Murphy eased the car forward, moving down the hill and through the gates of the dockyard. Driving through the maze of buildings and workers, they slowly made their way to the warehouse they were looking for, parking off to the side. Climbing out, both men quickly moved to the side of the building. Conner kept his aim behind them as they moved to a side door. Murphy reached out, checking the doorknob, finding it unlocked.

"It's open."

Conner stared at his brother for a moment, then moved to the other side of the door as Murphy opened it slowly. Both men moved into the small office, scanning around for any movement. Looking out through the glass window of the office, both men stared into the dark warehouse. Crates were scattered across the entire floor of the warehouse, stacked to varying heights. Lights were on sporadically throughout the warehouse, but most of it remained in shadow. Murphy looked out the window and saw a man tied to a chair in the center of the warehouse, his head covered in a black bag.

"It's dad!!!"

"No!! Murph!!"

Conner tried to stop his brother, but Murphy ran out from the office, moving quickly to the man sitting in the center of the warehouse. Suddenly the warehouse flashed with bright light as the overhead lights all came on. Murphy slid to a stop, suddenly blinded by the bright light. A voice boomed out through the warehouse.

"Welcome, Saints!!"

The warehouse suddenly erupted into chaos and madness as Russian hitmen moved out from behind hidden cover, firing assault rifles and pistols. Murphy dove to the ground as bullets impacted all around him, sending wood shrapnel from crates as bullets tore into them. Murphy quickly belly crawled behind a crate, firing wildly to wherever he thought fire was coming from.

"Murph!!!"

Conner quickly started to the office door to join his brother, but automatic gunfire exploded through the window of the office, spraying into it. Conner ducked down to the floor, rolling up against the wall as a strafe of bullets tore into the ground near him.

Murphy slid around the crate he was behind, catching sight of three Russians thugs as they moved towards him. Rolling onto his back, Murphy pushed back from behind the box, sliding behind another one as he fired with both guns, killing the three thugs charging at him. Rolling back up behind another box, more gunfire echoed across the warehouse as he dropped the now empty clips out of his guns, pulling two more out from his jacket and slamming them home.

The backdoor of the office suddenly kicked open and three thugs barreled through into it. Conner stood quickly, firing with both guns taking the first two down immediately. The third one swung his shotgun around to fire at Conner, but Conner slammed a pistol across his face, then pulled him around in front of him as more gunfire shot into the office. Using the thug as a shield, Conner ran backwards towards the door, jumping through it back to the outside as bullets slammed into his now dead human shield.

Murphy jumped to his feet, and keeping low, moved across a row of crate, bullets impacting all around him. Jumping behind another group of crates, Murphy spun around and fired as another hitman ran around a corner at him, dropping the hitman dead. Murphy inched his way closer to the man tied to the chair in the center of the warehouse.

"I'm comin' dad!"

Conner stood up quickly, lifting his gun just in time to kill a Russian as he spun around the corner of the warehouse. Running to the front of the warehouse, Conner was suddenly spun around as a bullet slammed into his shoulder. Falling down, Conner fired wildly hitting two of the four thugs shooting at him. Crawling backwards, Conner continued to fire until he was able to get behind some cover.

Murphy jumped behind another box, finally making it behind the man. Glancing over the top of the crate, Murphy saw three hitmen standing on a catwalk on the side of the warehouse, firing down at him with assault rifles. Dropping to the side of the box, Murphy fired up at them, causing them to move to cover. In the momentary lull, Murphy grabbed the back of the chair, pulling the man back behind the crate. Pulling the bag off from the head, Murphy stared at the face of a dead man, a bullet hole centered in his forehead. It was not, however, his father.

"Fuck me!"

Murphy fell back down to the ground as five hitmen moved out from a stairwell firing at him as the three above stood again, firing at him. Murphy fired wildly over and around the crate, cursing to himself.

Conner clutched his shoulder as blood seeped out through his fingers. Lifting his gun up, Conner turned around his cover, firing at the two remaining hitmen shooting at him. Running back to their car, Conner jumped behind the wheel of the car, slamming it into gear causing the wheels to spin on the slick ground before catching traction and shooting the car forward. The two hitmen came out from behind their cover firing at him, but Conner ducked down as the bullets impacted on the windshield. The cars engine roared as Conner spun the wheel, bring the car to bear on the massive front door to the warehouse.

"Fuck it!"

Murphy crouched down behind the crates, firing blindly over the top with his pistol, but every time he tried to move, a volley of gunfire would explode around him, keeping him pinned behind the crates. Dropping another empty clip, he slid another fresh one into the pistol. He heard the Russians yelling to each other, they were going to eventually make their way to him and kill him, no matter how many he killed. He caught a glimpse of something and spun, but the Russian stood up behind the crate, aiming an uzi at him. Murphy said a silent prayer and prepared to die when he heard the sudden roar of a car.

The doors behind Murphy exploded, showering splinters of wood and metal across the warehouse. The Russian spun to fire at the car, but it slammed into him, sending the now dead body flying into a wall of crates. The passenger's side door flew open.

"C'mon, Murph, let's go!!!"

Murphy smiled at his brother as he ran and dove into the car. The Russians jumped up from behind their cover and opened fire on the car and Conner slammed the car into reverse and pushed the pedal to the floor. Bullets pinged around the car, as it flew backwards out of the hole Conner made moments ago. Conner spun the car around, hitting the gas and sending it forward. Conner turned to his brother.

"What happened to dad?"

"It wasn't dad!! It was all a fuckin' trap!"

Crisscrossing around warehouses, dodging dockworkers and forklifts, the boys tried to find their way out of the shipping yard.

"Christ, Conner, where the fuck are we?"

"How should I know? You drove us here, you stupid ass!!!"

"Fuck you!!"

Murphy spun around looking behind them to see two cars and the big truck slide around the corner of a warehouse, giving chase.

"We got company."

Conner looked in the shot up rearview mirror.

"Damn it, hold on!!"

Conner spun the wheel, driving through an open warehouse door. Murphy pushed himself back against the seat, bracing his hands hard against the dashboard of the car.

"Shit…shit…shit…shit…shit…"

Conner gripped the wheel tighter as he drove the car, passing around crates, dodging people left and right. Murphy glanced behind, the Russians still on their tail, the cars moving like they were, dodging left and right while the truck simply smashed through anything in front of it.

"You just gonna sit there and piss yourself or are you going to shoot at them?"

"Fuck off, Conner!! What do you want me to do? I got barely anything left in my guns."

Conner reached into his jacket, pulling his pistol.

"There, you bleeding pansy. Now shoot somebody!!!"

"I'll shoot you, you fucker!"

"Fuck you! I'm already shot!"

Murphy turned in his seat and fired out the blown out back window. The Russians in the passenger's side seats of the cars leaned out their windows and started to return fire. Sliding out from inside the warehouse, Conner missed a crane support by inches, pushing the pedal back down to the floorboard. The Russians flew out of the warehouse taking the turn to follow the brothers. One of the cars turned too wide, sliding into the crane support, almost cutting the car in half. The chasing truck and remaining car kept up the chase. Bullets ricocheted off the brothers' car, causing Conner to cut the wheel hard to the right, sliding the car around a shipping container.

"Oh Shit, wrong turn, Conner!!"

Containers were being offloaded from a freighter moored next to the dock they were driving on. Two massive cranes were lifting containers and dropping them onto the dock to wait for shipment. Conner had to cut the car left and right to avoid hitting the containers as they were dropped onto the dock. The Russian car cut into the narrow pathway through the containers as the truck cut to the side and followed around the containers. Conner hit another hard right, avoiding another container just as it touched down to the dock.

"Christ, you're gonna get us killed!!!"

"Will you shut up and let me drive!"

Conner pulled to the side as the Russian car pulled up along side, the passengers and thug in the back seat aiming their guns at them. Conner suddenly slammed on the brakes, screeching the car to a stop, then punched the gas again as the Russian car shot out in front of them. Murphy leaned out from the passenger's window, firing into the car in front of them as Conner moved to the driver's side of it. Pulling the wheel hard to the side, Conner slammed the front of their car into the backside of the Russian car. The Russian car tried to stay straight but suddenly slid sideway, rolling over and cart wheeling sideways before slamming into a shipping container. Murphy let off a cheer as the drove past the destroyed car.

"Fuck yes!"

Both brothers were suddenly shoved forward as the truck emerged out from behind a group of shipping containers, rear-ending them. Murphy spun around and fired at the truck as it slammed into them again. Conner cut the wheel hard, spinning the car to the side and getting out from in front of the truck as it moved to ram them again. Murphy leaned out from his window, aiming the pistol up over the roof of the car, firing into the cab of the truck. The truck suddenly veered off, plowing into a crane support and exploding in a fireball. Murphy slid back into the car, and dropped the gun into the backseat as Conner drove out through the dockyard gate, moving out into the night again.

-------------------------------------------------------

Boss Nicoli Petrova sat behind his massive oak desk, the smoke from the cigar clutched in his hands slowly drifting up to the spinning ceiling fan above. Petrova was an aged man, his hair long since loosing its black for a brighter shade of gray. His office was decorated very conservatively, wood paneling across the walls with every piece of furniture facing his desk. There was no doubt when sitting in this room that there was only one man in control. There was only one boss. The two men sitting in front of him shifted silently, uneasy at the silence that had fallen on the room. They continuously glanced, not at Petrova, but the man standing behind him.

The tall, slightly built man stood expressionless, his eye hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses. He looked to be ex-military, his hair cropped closely to his head, his face shaved clean. He stood with his arms clasped behind his back. The two men sitting knew that he was dangerous, more than they wanted to know probably. Petrova slowly put cigar down into the ashtray on his desk and stared at the two men, speaking calmly, his voice thick with a Russian accent.

"They got away…"

The two men nodded their heads. Petrova scratched below his eye for a moment.

"The men who killed my one and only brother got away."

They nodded again. Petrova let off a sigh, standing slowly from his chair and pushing it back up to the desk. His bodyguard stood unmoving as Petrova stood next to him staring at the wall behind his desk. Petrova suddenly reached into his bodyguard's jacket, pulling a pistol out. Spinning before the two men had a chance to react, Petrova put a bullet in between the eyes of the one sitting on the left. The other sat motionless staring at the barrel now pointed at his head.

"Fail me once more and you shall join him."

The man stood from the chair and quickly moved out from the room, disappearing back behind the office doors. Petrova turned back to bodyguard, holding the gun out to him.

"Bring me the father, Victor."

Victor Buleski nodded his head as he took the gun, sliding it back into the holster under his jacket. Petrova sat back down at his desk, lifting his cigar again and staring at the dead body now sitting across from him.

"And get rid of that."

Victor turned to a table behind him, lifting the receiver of the telephone sitting on it.


End file.
